


Strings

by arysa13



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Co-workers, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Gags, Light Dom/sub, Office Sex, Secret Relationship, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23073700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: For Bellamy's birthday, Clarke gifts him a stress ball on a string.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 17
Kudos: 392
Collections: Bellarke smut





	Strings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [logologist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/logologist/gifts).



> Happy birthday Arne -- only 2 weeks late. I'm so sorry, but as you know, I'm completely useless without you. I hope you like this anyway!

The final out of key notes of Happy Birthday die off, Jasper’s dramatic warbling outlasting anyone else. Bellamy tries to look pleased, but he’s not sure he’s pulling it off. His smile feels more like a grimace. He’s never been big on birthdays, and the entire staffroom singing to him while he sits there with a pink frosted chocolate cake in front of him is more embarrassment than he can handle.

“Now blow out the candles,” Jasper tells him. Bellamy obeys, managing to get all ten of them, bar one. “Ha!” Jasper laughs. “Who’s your girlfriend?” Sometimes Bellamy thinks Jasper is more immature than the teenagers they teach.

“Very funny,” Bellamy says, rolling his eyes as he puffs out the last candle. He can’t resist a glance at Clarke, who seems all too amused by the situation. _Not_ his girlfriend. As she’s made abundantly clear. The phrase _no strings attached_ has been uttered too many times for him to count. But he’s hoping she’s got a better surprise than Jasper’s lined up for him later.

He cuts the cake, and then, mercifully, people stop paying attention to him, more interested in getting the biggest slice of cake they can secure. Bellamy heads for the door, trying to slip out of the staffroom and back to his office unnoticed. It works, with the exception of Clarke, who slips out behind him, and quickly hurries to catch up with him.

“I have a birthday present for you,” she says slyly. “Something to help ease the stress you’ve been feeling lately.”

Bellamy glances at her. There are still students in the halls, so he can’t be too flirty with her. “Oh yeah?” he says.

“It’s in my office,” she says. “Come on.”

Bellamy’s heartrate kicks up a notch. He’s about ninety per cent sure she’s going to suck him off in her office, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been hoping for it all morning.

He follows her into her office, shutting the door behind him, locking it securely. He looks up, expecting to see her getting on her knees in front of him. But instead she’s opening her desk drawer, not paying him the slightest bit of attention.

She pulls something out of the drawer and tosses it at him. He catches it, though it takes him by surprise, and his heart sinks when he realises what it is.

“Happy birthday,” she grins cheekily.

“A stress ball?” Bellamy deadpans. He squeezes it in his hand. “Really, Clarke?”

“What?” she says innocently. “You’re always saying how stressed you are. It even has a string so you can attach it to your wrist and have it with you at all times.”

Bellamy _is_ always saying how stressed he is. Most of the time it’s code for _I need to fuck you right now_.

“Well, thanks,” he says flatly. He probably seems ungrateful, but a stress ball is a lot less exciting than a blow job.

“Are you disappointed?” Clarke asks him. “Were you hoping for something else?”

Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her. She knows perfectly well what he was hoping for. But saying it out loud makes him seem like a dick, even if it is his birthday. “No, it’s great,” he says. “In fact, I could use some stress relief right now.” He squeezes the ball, hoping it will release some of the sexual frustration that he’s built up in the last few minutes.

Clarke laughs. “I’ll see you later,” she says, and Bellamy nods, realising he’s been dismissed. He doesn’t even get a kiss.

He keeps the ball around his wrist for the rest of the afternoon, fiddling with the adjustable string, squeezing the soft rubber whenever a student gets on his nerves particularly badly. It helps, a little. But it doesn’t stop him from thinking about shoving Clarke to her knees, choking her with his cock, pulling her hair, coming on her face.

As much as he’s loved their little arrangement—sneaking around, fucking in secret, no strings attached—he’s starting to feel like maybe it’s not enough.

What he really wants is to feel needed by her. He wants to kiss her, and hold her hand in public, and tell everyone she’s his girlfriend. He wants to go on a date with her, learn all about her, whisper that he loves her. And then he wants to take her home, tie her to his bed, and have her completely at his mercy while he fucks her senseless.

The problem is, he can’t bring himself to tell her what he really desires. Every thing he wants seems like too much, and he’s sure that if he voiced them out loud, she’d bolt. She’s clearly happy with their arrangement, and he doesn’t want it to stop, even if it’s not completely fulfilling either his emotional needs or his sexual needs.

So despite his new toy, by the end of the school day, he’s only more frustrated than ever. He wants nothing more than to go home, have a beer, and jerk off. Seeing as he’s obviously not getting laid today. Perhaps Clarke feels like birthday sex is too far in the direction of a relationship.

He’s packing up his stuff, about to head home earlier than usual, seeing as he has no afterschool commitments to attend, when Clarke slips into his office. She shuts the door and clicks the lock into place. Bellamy’s cock jumps. Classical conditioning, probably.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, scowling. Come to tease him some more, probably.

Clarke pouts. “Are you mad at me? I came to give you the rest of your present.”

“What is it? Something else to help relieve stress? A face mask maybe? Essential oils?”

“Don’t be like that,” Clarke says. “I came to blow you. I was only teasing before.”

“Well, I’m tired of being teased,” he growls. Clarke stops, her eyes widening. Bellamy immediately feels guilty. He’s never snapped at her like that before. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“Where did _that_ come from?” she asks.

He shrugs. Truthfully, it came from a part of him he’s pushed deep down. The angry part, the violent part, the part that wants to be in control. He saw how men treated his mother when he was growing up. He doesn’t want to be like that, least of all with Clarke.

“Just frustrated,” he says. “Long day. I hate birthdays.”

“I know,” Clarke says. She chews her lip, eyeing him. “I didn’t know you don’t like to be teased. I thought we were both having fun. You never said anything before.”

“I don’t mind it sometimes,” he says. “But sometimes…”

“Yeah?”

“Sometimes I’d like to be the one teasing you,” he shrugs. His eyes flick up to meet hers. Her lips are parted, her pupils wide. His heart skips a beat when he realises that maybe she wants that too.

“What else?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he whispers, but she keeps staring at him, waiting for him to answer. He’s still scared if he admits it, gives in to that dark side of himself, she’ll freak out, and he’ll lose her. “You don’t want to know,” he says.

“I do,” she says. “If what we’re doing isn’t satisfying you…” she trails off. “I just—I don’t want you to get bored of me.”

“I’m not bored,” he says quickly. “Just—frustrated.”

“So tell me what you want,” Clarke coaxes. Bellamy considers her, then nods. He wants to be honest with her. Something in her expression makes him feel like he can open up.

“I like to be in control,” he admits. “Sometimes I think about—spanking you, for being such a tease.” Her breath hitches, and his heartrate increases. He stands up, slowly, rolling his shoulders back, making himself look as big as possible. He squeezes the stress ball in his hand, still attached to his wrist. “Think about you on your knees, tied up, my cock shoved down your throat.”

Clarke swallows. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” she says quietly.

Bellamy licks his lips nervously. “Because I like you,” he confesses. “I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“I thought—I thought you liked to be dominated,” she admits. “I thought that’s what you were into, and I didn’t want to stop having sex with you, so I tried to be that for you.”

“But really—you want me to dominate _you_?”

Clarke nods, bottom lips caught between her teeth. “Yes, sir.” Bellamy’s cock jumps. “Should I suck your cock now, sir?”

Bellamy squeezes the stress ball again. “No,” he says. “I think I have a better idea. Think I need to punish you for being a little tease.”

“Yes, sir,” Clarke agrees breathlessly.

Bellamy saunters over to her. He grabs her roughly and pins her against the door, making her gasp. He brings his hand to her jaw, rubbing his thumb down her lips, making her open her mouth.

“We can’t risk anyone hearing you,” he whispers. “Wouldn’t want all our co-workers to know who’s fucking you. Don’t want them to know you’re a dirty little slut, do we?”

Clarke shakes her head. Bellamy slips the stress ball from his wrist, loosening the strap. Clarke’s eyes widen as he brings it up to her mouth, but she keeps her mouth open, and Bellamy lodges it between her lips. He loops the strap around her head, securing the makeshift gag in place.

“Turn around,” he says. “Hands on the door.”

Clarke obeys, pressing her palms flat against the door, sticking her ass out, her legs spread. Her skirt is long and flowy, and he gathers it up from the bottom, tucking it into her waistband, revealing her maroon thong. He yanks it down to her knees, baring her ass to him.

“I’m going to spank you,” he whispers, lips against her ear. “Teach you a lesson for being such a naughty tease.”

Clarke whimpers, nodding. Bellamy brings his hand down on her ass, hard. The gag muffles most of her moan. He spanks her again, right on the red mark his hand had made on the first slap. He loves the way it looks, the way it sounds when his hand meets her skin. He hits her again and again, and she’s squirming, but still holding her position. Arousal drips from her cunt onto her thighs.

It’s too much for Bellamy—the sight of her dishevelled, gagged, submitting to him. His cock aches, straining against the fly of his pants, desperate to be inside her. He rubs her ass, slips his fingers between her folds, feeling how wet she is.

“Think you liked being spanked a little too much, didn’t you?” he says. Clarke nods, blushing. “Does your empty pussy need my cock inside it? Need me to fill you up?”

She tries to speak, something muffled coming out of her mouth.

“Yes, sir? Is that what you said?” Bellamy asks. Clarke nods again.

Bellamy hastily undoes his pants, dropping them, and his boxers, just enough to get his cock out. He positions himself behind her, hands on her waist. He slides his cock between her legs, rubbing his length against her pussy, coating himself in her arousal.

“You’re so fucking wet, Clarke,” he groans. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard.”

He pushes himself inside her then, and she spreads her legs wider, pushing back against him, eager for him to fill her up. His thrusts are rapid, uncontrolled, and he’s focused only on his own pleasure—it is his birthday after all.

By some miracle, she comes before he does, her moan swallowed by the ball in her mouth. Her walls clench around him, and moments later he finds his own release, spilling his load inside her. She collapses against the door, and Bellamy’s cock slips out of her, along with some of his come, dripping down her thighs now.

He rubs her lower back soothingly, then loosens the strap around her head, spinning her around to face him as the ball drops from her mouth, covering her lips and chin in saliva. He wipes the saliva from her face with his sleeve, then rubs her jaw with his thumb.

“You okay?” he asks her.

Clarke nods. “Maybe we get a proper gag next time, though,” she says, smiling playing across her lips. “And maybe we keep this kind of stuff at home, and not at school.”

Bellamy smiles. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I think I can handle that.”

He leans in to kiss her, sickeningly sweet in comparison to the brutal fucking he just gave her. “Is there any chance,” he asks, pulling away, “that you want to date me for real?”

Clarke laughs, almost nervously. “I think there’s a very good chance.”

“Yeah?” he says. “What about _no strings attached_?”

Clarke screws up her nose. “If I’m being honest, there have always been strings, from the first second I saw you.”

Bellamy grins. “Me too.”

“And I’m hoping there will be more strings in our future? Maybe the kind you can tie me up with,” Clarke says cheekily.

“Is that right?” Bellamy says, raising an eyebrow. “Well, we’ll just have to see if you can behave yourself, and then you might get a reward. _After_ our date.”

“I’m free tonight,” Clarke says quickly. “And it is your birthday, after all.”


End file.
